


Battle Wounds

by Infinite_Vibrance (gindokiis)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gindokiis/pseuds/Infinite_Vibrance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwazumi gets shipped off to war for three years. Oikawa awaits for his return. Then Iwazumi gets honorably discharged, being able to come home, but not without physical wounds and PTSD. Oikawa should be happy about Iwazumi's arrival, but the battle wounds are still so raw and open--he's afraid he'll lose the only person he ever cared to call a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing fics on tumblr and then posting them on here, haha. So here, this thought randomly came to me today and I decided to go with it. There will be a continuation of this fic, so no worries!

Oikawa still remembers the fight as if it were yesterday. His tongue still burns with insults and harsh words thrown at his best friend in anger. His eyes still sting with the tears he cried into his pillow the moment Iwazumi walked out the door, slamming it behind him on his way out. His arms still ached to grasp onto Iwazumi as the teen came back half an hour later, his own eyes scarred red with tears. 

The night always came back to Oikawa in vivid nightmares. Then, the paranoia set in. And his words fears would manifest out of the shadows of the night. Iwazumi getting injured. Iwazumi getting captured as a POW. Iwazumi's body coming home in a casket. 

Iwazumi's body never coming home at all. 

Those dreams happened every night. And every night Oikawa woke up, knuckles white and grasping the sheets. His chest painfully constricting. The heartstrings that held up the shattered remnants of Oikawa's heart could barely hold on. 

He hated those nights. Where his weaknesses came out like a vice. Wrapped around his neck. Threatened to snap it in half and seep into his bones and take over his blood and make him realize that he can't hold on. That he can't wait by the window or block out the pain and fear by playing volleyball for numerous hours of the day.

He literally could not function without Iwazumi by his side.

And such a thought  _terrified_ Oikawa. 

He would pray and beg and plead at nights that Iwazumi was safe. That he'd be brought home safe and sound and, in one piece.

That the Iwazumi who kissed him and held him tight and made love to him before the day he left for the army, would still be the same Iwazumi who never tolerated his shit but always got flustered whenever he cried. 

War's a cruel being, though. Once you enter into her domain, you never truly come out untouched.

Three, painful years passed. And finally Oikawa received a letter--one he stuck on the wall with all the other letters he got from Iwazumi, though they dwindled a bit through the years--that Iwazumi was coming home.

 _His_ Iwazumi was coming home. 

Oikawa spent the majority of his Saturday fixing the little one room apartment the two had scraped their money together to buy. He tried to make something in the kitchen but Iwazumi was the cooker, not Oikawa. So at best all he could make was two bowls of instant ramen, tea, and some pudding cups he bought at the convenience store down the street.

Then he dressed up in a nice pair of khakis and a button down, grabbed the sign he made, and headed down for the airport.

He probably broke seven traffic laws on his way, but not even the law would stop him from seeing Iwazumi. 

Oikawa arrived at the pick up station, eyes scanning the crowd for his partner. Finally, they landed on that familiar spike of black hair and Oikawa's heart nearly imploded.

"IWA-CHAN! IWA-CHAN HEY! LOOK, LOOK!" Oikawa held up the sign he made the day he learned Iwazumi was coming home. 

> _HOT BOYFRIEND COMING TO PICK UP EQUALLY HOT BOYFRIEND._

Iwazumi stopped. His eyes landed on Oikawa and the setter nearly dropped his sign.

Those eyes  _weren't_ Iwazumi's. There was a haunted look to them. Haggard and bruised. But the ghost didn't linger for long. It came and went like a whisper, replaced with Iwazumi's normal look of annoyance when Oikawa was concerned. 

"Always so annoying." He glanced at the sign, a tiny blush on his face. "Put that thing away. You're causing a scene."

Oikawa childishly pouted, happy to see that Iwazumi was still the same. Though his heart still felt a heavy weight. Like that ghost hadn't disappeared for good. 

"How would you be able to find me without the sign?! I made it for your benefit!" 

"You're easily the tallest guy here. I don't even have to see you to  _sense_ you're stupidity a mile away." Iwazumi snorted, but his lips quirked in a smirk and he hesitantly reached out to grasp Oikawa's hand. Their fingers interlocked, strengthening their bond that had waned throughout the years.

"I missed you." Iwazumi whispered, biting his lower lip.

Oikawa let out a high-pitched squeal he didn't bother to conceal before he latched onto Iwazumi's shoulders and sobbed into the man's shoulders. Three years had been too long. Far too long. And Oikawa hadn't tried to pay attention to the way Iwazumi stiffened from the hug. Or how it took him an extra minute to return the gesture.

He didn't pay attention to the gnawing worry at the edge of his mind.

All he cared about was that his precious Iwazumi was home. 

* * *

 

Welcome home sex is the best sex. They had a lot of it the first month Iwazumi came home. They had dinner together and they had dinner together and sometimes they went on walks together, just the two of them where they talked about everything but never the  _big thing_ and enjoyed one another's companies.

Then the nightmares hit.

Not for Oikawa. His dread was seemingly over. At nights, Iwazumi would wake up with a start and he'd scream bloody murder. He'd kick Oikawa off the bed and then straddle him with his arm pressed against Oikawa's neck and his eyes glazed and  _wild._

Flashbacks, the doctor told Oikawa after the first incident. Where the only way he had gotten Iwazumi to calm down was by almost getting choked to death, only for Iwazumi to come around to his own senses. Flashbacks were a common sign of PTSD. A soldier could come back from war and be scot free for months, years, and then one day something triggers them back to the fire fight.

A word, a smell, a sound--and bam. You're standing there on the battlefield with a gun in your hand and mud on your face and blood on your hands.

Iwazumi sat on the chair, shoulders drooped, his eyes on the floor two days later after the incident. "You never really leave the battlefield." He whispered hoarsely. He stared down at his hands, fingers trembling. "I'm discharged and I'm at home but one sound of a car backfiring or one nightmare about--" he paused, refusing to look at Oikawa. "--and I'm back there again. I'm back and I feel like I'm trapped; I can't leave."

He was a prisoner of war, but not in the way one would think.

It was frustrating. Sitting there not knowing what to do. The doctor said Iwazumi would have to battle his own demons with self-help and therapy. But you can't just  _sit_ there and watch your lover struggle with the blurred lines of reality and imagination. 

The distance came a few months later. Iwazumi refused to sleep in the same bed as Oikawa. 

"I can't wake up and find my hands around your neck again. I just  _can't_."

The touches they shared were minimal. Their playful jabs and flirtatious teases came to a stand still. It seemed whenever Oikawa opened his mouth, all he could find was dead air. Though his mind was reeling with things to say, he knew they weren't right. He knew he couldn't  _push._ He wanted to, oh God he wanted Iwazumi to talk to him. To unload the burdens on his soul.

But he wasn't stupid. He couldn't  _push._ It was annoying that he had to let Iwazumi come to terms with opening up by himself. 

And one day, the frustration and the anxiety toppled over. Overflowed. During dinner, a quiet affair, Oikawa slammed his bowl on the table and spoke. 

"How long am I going to have to wait..." he muttered, clutching his hands into fists. "How long am I, your lover, going to have to wait until you can trust me to tell me what's going on in your head!"

Iwazumi paused. Tension settled in the air. He ate another bite. "I don't have to tell you anything."

And then Oikawa just... snapped. 

"Bullshit! Fucking  _bullshit!_ I've waited three years for you. Three fucking  _painful_ years. I had to suffer wondering what the hell happened to you when your monthly letters turned into barely once a week notes! You're suffering. I can see it in your eyes. You're so  _damn afraid!_ Open up to me, Iwazumi! Stop putting all the burden on yourself!"

"It's not easy, Oikawa. It's not fucking easy to tell you. To go deep and relive all those memories." A pause. "The things I've done... You'd look at me differently." 

He was shaking. His voice was cracking. His fingernails dug into his palms. 

"I love you..." Oikawa whispered. "Isn't that enough?" 

Iwazumi didn't say anything. He just got up and left the table. 

* * *

 

One day Oikawa came home and was slammed against the door, face pressed to the wood, and a knife to his neck. 

Another flashback. 

It was almost tiring, the way they came and went. 

Iwazumi asked him questions, and Oikawa rattled them off like procedure until the pressure on his neck disappeared and his nose replaced the knife. 

"I'm sorry," Iwazumi whispered over and over and over again. He was shaking. His voice was broken. A wetness damped Oikawa's skin.

Tears ran down Oikawa's face. Silent ones. Broken ones. 

The sex they had that night was fragile. They touched and kissed one another as if it was the first time. Like they didn't recognize the bodies before them. And that  _terrified_ Oikawa. Because it was the beginning of the end. And he didn't want to accept it. Didn't want to close the book on Iwazumi's life.

But there were so many raw, open wounds. They were bloody and bleeding and stained Iwazumi's soul. Oikawa's fingers brushed against Iwazumi's cheek. They were close, but not touching. They hadn't held each other in months. His body craved to hold Iwazumi in his arms again, but Iwazumi said he couldn't take the risk.

He couldn't put Oikawa at such a risk, when he was still working on overcoming his trauma. 

"You're going to sleep on the couch again," at this point it wasn't even a question.

Iwazumi smiled sadly. "Yeah."

He shuffled out of bed, pulling on his boxers. He winced and threw a crooked smirk over his shoulder. "Damn. Still got it, don't you?"

Oikawa could't find it in himself to reply. His fingers splayed across the empty bed space Iwazumi used to occupy. 

"You can stay."

"You know I can't."

"I don't care," Oikawa said, sitting up. "I don't care what you do to me. Or what you  _think_ you'll do to me." Because he loved you. Because Oikawa would gladly die by your hands. Because he just need... just  _needed_ Iwazumi. By his side. In his arms. Where he belonged. 

But this was a new Iwazumi. One who let the demons win. One who put distance when he needed closeness. One who stood there, looking as if there was a war going on right now but the only enemy he was fighting was himself. 

He shook his head; defeated and walked out of the room. Oikawa didn't cry that night.

He didn't have many tears left. 

And then one day, the end came. But not how Oikawa imagined it. Because it was him walking out the door--not Iwazumi. 

"I'm sorry." He had a backpack and a duffel bag and the clothes on his back and his eyes couldn't look at Iwazumi for the life of him. 

Iwazumi looked at the bags, realization dawning on him. "You're finally leaving..." 

 _Finally._ Like he was counting down the days till Oikawa cut ties. Anger rushed through Oikawa's veins. His hands shook. 

"You pushed me away," he hissed. "I want to help, Iwa. I want to help you  _so badly._ But you won't let me in. And I'm not going to stick around being pushed to the side. I can't... I can't handle this anymore. I'm sorry..." 

"Don't..." Iwazumi swallowed. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. It was... never your fault." He looked ashamed. Like a man kicked down to his knees. "You're doing the right thing." He finally said.

 _'No. No don't tell me that.'_ "Stop. Don't say another word." Oikawa sucked in a sharp breath. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the tears. "Because the  _right thing_ shouldn't hurt me this badly..." It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Shredded into pieces.

It was like Oikawa was standing on the battlefield, arms outstretched, being shot to pieces by arrays of bullets. 

If he stayed any longer, he was going to lose it. His resolve. His sanity. He gave one, final curt nod towards Iwazumi before he headed for the door, locking it behind him.

He didn't make it very far.

He stood, back pressed against the front door. His body shaking and tears running down his face. Streams of them. He bit his lower lip to hold back his wails. 

"I-Iwa-chan," he gasped. "You fucking idiot. I love you dammit. Tell me to stay, dammit." 

He knew Iwazumi wouldn't do it. He was too selfless. He put others before himself and that's why Oikawa loved him so much. Always, always loving unconditionally and giving Oikawa his everything. It was so painful to think the man who loved him so much was only a shell of what he used to be.

But he had to do this, Oikawa reminded himself. Because his being there was obviously more of a detriment than a benefit. Maybe one day, down the line if they were destined for it, Iwazumi would get better and would be ready to let Oikawa help. Iwazumi would need to fight on his own, though. 

Not that Oikawa didn't stand there and think that this was the wrong choice. That he had to go back and make things right and not give up. To try again. His heart physically hurt to open the door. To even think about it. So he took a step away from the door and started walking.

_'If he comes after me, I'll go back.'_

He was halfway down the block. 

Iwazumi never came after him. 


End file.
